


New Grass on the Field

by snarky_saxophonist



Series: Sun Came Out Today [2]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M, Magic and demons, Not exactly an alternate universe, but some people have magic, kind of, minor injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 01:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12570512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarky_saxophonist/pseuds/snarky_saxophonist
Summary: All of the curses haunting the Cubs were supposed to be broken when they won the World Series, but there's definitely something unnatural going on with Kris. He just wants to play baseball, not deal with whatever seems to be plaguing him.





	New Grass on the Field

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where the inspiration for this came from, but four days and 11,000 words later, here this is. Enjoy.
> 
> If you are one of the people in the tags or know them personally, please click away now. This is intended for fun and enjoyment, not to be anything real or reflecting real life.

Kris is trotting towards home in the eighth inning during a game against the Nationals the first time it happens, sent on his way by Rizzo’s homer. He’s nearly to third base when a wave of agony and inexplicable rage crashes into his head, making him stagger as he reaches the bag.

“You alright?” Butterfield asks him from next to third base, looking like he’s going to reach out to steady Kris.

“I’m good,” Kris manages through gritted teeth as he forces himself to keep moving. He keeps it together enough to high-five Anthony, but heads straight for the tunnel, stopping as soon as he’s out of view of the cameras. He rips off his batting helmet and buries his face in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to get rid of the waves of pain radiating through his head.

“KB?” Lester’s voice breaks through his haze, gentle and quiet. “What’s wrong?”

“My head,” Kris grits out. “It - ah!” He breaks off with a cry of pain as the agony increases tenfold.

“Okay,” he vaguely hears Lester say, then strong hands are taking his helmet and easing him to the ground to lean against something warm. He hears Lester say something else, maybe about getting a trainer, then a moment later a few other people are there.

“Kris, can you open your eyes?” PJ asks, kneeling in front of Kris when he finally manages to pry them apart. “What happened?”

“My head-“ Kris mutters. “Just-just as I was jogging home.”

“Okay,” PJ says levelly. “Do you feel like you’re going to pass out?”

“No, it just hurts,” Kris chokes out, leaning back against Lester.

“I’m going to go talk to Joe and get someone else to help me. Jonny, do you think you can help Kris get to the trainers’ room?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Lester says quietly, standing up and helping Kris up. The pain seems to slowly lessening ever so slightly, but he still holds onto Jon’s arm as they walk.

 

“Joe, I’m taking Kris out of the game,” PJ says to Maddon when he makes his way back into the dugout. “I don’t know what’s going on, but he’s not okay to stay in.”

“What happened?” Maddon asks, pulling out his lineup card and gesturing at Tommy La Stella to come over.

“Something’s wrong with his head, I think,” PJ says. “I don’t know for sure yet, and I won’t have an update for you before the game ends. It might be an illness or something he ate, or it could be some sort of injury.”

“Can we just go with upper-body problem?” Joe muses.

“I don’t know, but maybe you should just say that he left the game because he was feeling unwell,” PJ shrugs. “Upper body problem feels deliberately vague, so people are going to wonder more.”

 

“We’ve been informed that Kris Bryant left today’s game with an upper-body injury,” Len Kasper reports on WGN.

“An upper-body injury?” JD asks. “Is this hockey?”

“Apparently, because that’s all we know right now,” Len says. “And, of course, Bryant was replaced by Tommy La Stella at third, who’s coming out onto the field now.”

 

“I feel okay now, really,” Kris assures PJ after about forty rounds of tests on his head. “I’m not sure what happened, it just came on really suddenly.”

“Take it easy tonight, and get to bed early,” PJ instructs him. “Come see me tomorrow morning, even if you still feel perfectly fine, okay?”

“Okay,” Kris nods, hopping down from the table in the trainers’ room. “Thanks. Are you going to clear me to play tomorrow?”

“If you have no other problems before then, I don’t see why not,” PJ says, scratching his beard. “With the caveat that you come tell me immediately if something happens during the game tomorrow.”

 

Kris dives for a hard-hit ball, pushing himself up to his knees and throwing from there to Anthony at first to get Bryce out. He grins apologetically at Bryce as he starts to stand up again, but the same crushing wave of pain sends him back down. It’s all he can to do keep himself from crying out from the pain in front of the thousands at Wrigley. Javy drifts over quickly, bending down to be at Kris’s level.

“You alright?” he asks as the rest of the infield and PJ start to approach Kris.

“PJ-“ Kris gasps out. “My head-“ PJ is nodding, already helping Kris up and signaling to Joe that he’s coming out of the game. Out of the corner of his eye, Kris sees Javy lean in to mutter something to Hendricks, eyeing Kris in concern, but Kris is too distracted by the pain tearing his head into pieces to think too hard about it. 

 

“You’re not playing tomorrow,” PJ says firmly once Kris has woken up several innings later, head pain completely gone. PJ had run a few more tests, then given him painkillers and told him to try to sleep it off, and now Kris feels completely normal again. When he tries to press the issue, however, PJ just shakes his head. “I let you play today, and look how that turned out. There’s an off day on Thursday, so if you take tomorrow off then you get two days in a row, and if nothing else happens, I’ll clear you for Friday, okay?”

“Fine,” Kris agrees reluctantly. “What’s the score?”

“It’s 4-0 Cubs, in the bottom of the seventh,” PJ reports. “And by taking tomorrow off, I mean that you’re staying home the entire day. Don’t even come to the park. Spend all of tomorrow resting and taking care of yourself, and if you feel fine the entire day, you can come in to work out on Thursday, after I check you over.”

“Okay,” Kris says. “Can I go back to the dugout and watch the rest of the game?”

“I suppose,” PJ says, rolling his eyes and muttering something about idiotic, single-minded baseball players.

 

Everything is fine for the next three days, including when he plays in the game on the third day, but on the fourth, everything comes crashing down. Kris hits a grand slam in the fifth inning, putting the Cubs up 7-2, and goes down hard before he reaches second base, tears streaming down his face as he buries his head in his hands and tries not to scream. He’s pulled from the game immediately, and it’s announced right after the game that he’s been placed on the DL due to illness. PJ and the other trainers do more tests that reveal no explanation for his problems. Kris spends the night at the hospital as specialists do yet more tests and look over the other tests and still find no explanation. 

 

_Hey, I heard you’re hurt. Sorry to hear that, you’ve been having a great season, David Ross texts Kris the first day of his first career DL stint._

_Yea, it fucking sucks,_ Kris replies quickly, glad to have somebody to talk to who isn’t a teammate or family member. He’d tried texting Bryce, but Bryce hasn’t answered yet.

_If you don’t mind my asking, what’s wrong? Rossy asks._

_They’re not sure. Something with my head, but every test is coming back like it’s fine. I just get random crippling agony in my head, but it’s not actually migraines or anything_

_Concussion?_

_Maybe, but I’m not testing positive for any other concussion symptoms and idk when I would’ve gotten it_

_Concussions are stupid and tricky,_ Rossy says. _You’re playing the Pirates next, right? I know a great concussion specialist in Pittsburgh, you could try to see him while you’re there_

_Idk if I’m going to be traveling with the team, but if you’d pass along his information that’d be great_

_Yeah, I’ll send it along to you once I get home. Hope you get this thing figured out_

_Thanks_

 

Kyle Hendricks stops by the next morning, bringing along a large container of chicken noodle soup.

“It’s my mom’s recipe,” he explains, handing the container to Kris, but he looks freaked out by something. “Always made me feel better as a kid, so hopefully it’ll help you, too.”

“Thank you,” Kris says, putting it in the fridge. “I’m so frustrated, I feel fine all the time except random moments.”

“Huh,” Kyle says, frowning. His brow furrows for a moment, and it almost looks like blue flickers over his eyes, but it must be a trick of the light, because Kyle has dark brown eyes. Either that, or Kris has gone completely insane. “Have you gone to see a specialist or anything?”

“I saw just about every doctor who does anything related to the head at Northwestern Memorial,” Kris says. “Rossy recommended a concussion specialist in Pittsburgh, so I was going to talk to PJ about seeing him when we play the Bucs.”

“Concussion specialist?” Kyle raises an eyebrow. “When would you have gotten a concussion?”

“No idea,” Kris shrugs. “At this point, I’m willing to see just about anybody who might be able to help.”

“Well, I hope he can,” Kyle says. “We miss having you out there with us.”

 

PJ agrees that it might be a good idea to have Kris see Rossy’s concussion specialist, so a few days later, Kris boards the plane to Pittsburgh along with his teammates. He’s surprised to see Hendricks and Javy sitting together in one of the front rows, given that they usually sit with very different people, but he shrugs it off. What’s harder to dismiss is the violent flinch Hendricks has when Kris gets on the plane. Hendricks won’t meet Kris’s eyes as he walks down the aisle, and Javy gives him a strange look. Kris scowls, dropping into a seat on the other side of the plane. He doesn’t have the fucking plague, why are his teammates acting so weird around him?

 

Once they arrive in Pittsburgh, Kris finds himself undergoing another round of tests under the direction of Dr. Micky Collins. He likes Collins’ no-nonsense, driven attitude, but Collins can’t seem to find anything wrong with him either. He recommends Kris to a neurologist he’s worked with before, so Kris goes there the next day, ready for more inconclusive tests. He’s declared in perfect health by this guy too, so he spends the rest of the trip lobbying PJ to let him start working out again. When the Cubs land in Detroit for a three game set against the Tigers after Kris has felt completely fine for a full week, ever since his grand slam, PJ finally gives in. 

Kris is warming up on the field at Comerica before most of the other players are even at the park, doing easy laps around the warning track. He’s just started to progress into an actual run when he feels someone else watching him. Turning around, he sees Miguel Cabrera watching him from the Tigers’ dugout, so he jogs over to greet the other man.

“There’s something wrong,” Cabrera says, his dark eyes raking over Kris.

“Um, hi?” Kris says hesitantly, reaching out a hand to shake. “And yeah, I’m on the DL.”

“Hello,” Cabrera says. “Nice to finally meet the famous Kris Bryant. And why are you on the DL, Bryant?”

“You can call me Kris,” Cabrera’s eyes are kind of freaking Kris out, but something about them also makes him trust him immediately. “I’ve been having weird headaches. They’ve only come when I’m playing, but they’re debilitating.”

“Hmm,” Cabrera says, finally shaking Kris’s hand slowly. “Call me Miggy.”

“Nice to meet you, Miggy,” Kris says awkwardly, pulling his hand back from Cabrera’s grip.

“These headaches - you are certain they are just headaches?” Cabrera asks.

“I mean, yeah?” Kris says, confused. “It’s not, like, something with my blood sugar or a brain tumor or anything. They tested me for just about anything that could possibly be wrong.”

“Hmm,” Cabrera says again. “Enjoy your run.”

He walks away abruptly, leaving Kris staring after him, utterly baffled.

 

Later, back in the clubhouse, Kris is almost certain that he sees Cabrera down a darkened hallway, talking to Kyle Hendricks, which makes no sense. What possible reason would there be for a Detroit first baseman to be talking to a Chicago pitcher? He’s pretty sure that Cabrera and Kyle have never met each other before, but maybe it was just a chance encounter as they walked through the clubhouse.

Aside from the weirdness with Miggy, everything seems to be going right for Kris. The Cubs take two of three from the Tigers, after taking three of four from the Pirates, and they’re solidly atop the Central. PJ has cleared Kris for full workouts under the watchful eye of their strength coach. Buss keeps an eye on him whenever he’s working out, but Kris doesn’t even have the hint of a headache while he does.

Kris plays two full games in Iowa, hitting three doubles, a homer, and walking twice in his nine plate appearances before he’s deemed ready to go back to Chicago. They’re playing the Cardinals at Wrigley, and Kris is excited to finally get back to his team and what he’s supposed to be doing. 

“Hey, it’s Kris!” CJ yells excitedly when Kris walks into the locker room before the game, running over to give Kris a hug. “Ready to bring your .571 Iowa batting average up to the big leagues?”

Kris hugs CJ back, ignoring how it feels like hugging a bony scarecrow. “You looked up my Iowa average while I was down?”

“Of course we did,” Lester says, squeezing Kris’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I’m a little disappointed you didn’t bat a thousand while down there, but I suppose .571 with a .666 OBP is acceptable, as long as you keep it up.”

“Yeah, I’ll do my best,” Kris laughs, beyond glad to be back with his teammates. 

“Just stay healthy, alright? I don’t like having to worry about you, KB,” Lester says, the humor disappearing from his tone. “Be careful.”

“I will,” Kris promises. “One DL stint was enough for me.”

Lester laughs again. “Just wait until you’re old like me, buddy.”

Anthony is waiting at his locker when Kris finally makes his way across the locker room.

“You sure you’re 100%?” He asks, looking Kris over carefully. 

“I mean, probably?” Kris shrugs. “I only ever got the headaches during games, so I’m not completely sure, but I feel totally fine now.”

“Keep it that way, okay? I don’t want to have to help the trainers carry you off the field again,” Anthony says, patting Kris on the shoulder.

“Carry me off the field?” Kris frowns. “When did you do that?”

“After you collapsed the last time?” Anthony raises an eyebrow. “After your grand slam? Do you not remember that?”

“No, I just remember going down,” Kris says. 

“Well, I had to help PJ carry you off because you couldn’t do much of anything,” Anthony says, his tone carefully neutral. “I’d like to avoid a repeat.”

“Me, too,” Kris says. “Uh, thanks for that.”

“I’d say I was happy to help, but…” Anthony gives him a sad smile. “Just be careful.”

 

“How are you doing?” Kyle Hendricks asks, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. Kris jumps, staring at him in surprise. 

“Where did you come from?” he asks, looking over at Anthony to see if he had noticed Kyle, but Anthony shrugs.

“I walked from over there,” Kyle says dryly. “You sure you should be back?”

“Yes,” Kris says vehemently. “I’m good to go, everything’s fine.”

“Whatever you say,” Kyle says, and Kris thinks he sees that same blue flicker over his eyes, just like that day in his apartment, but it’s gone before he can look closely. Kyle frowns, nodding at Kris and Anthony, then makes a beeline across the locker room to Javy, who immediately follows Kyle out into the hallway.

“That was weird,” Anthony comments, staring after their teammates. 

“You could say that,” Kris agrees, but he puts the encounter out of his mind as he starts getting ready for the game.

 

Kris flies out, singles, and grounds out during the game, and doesn’t make any spectacular defensive plays, but he can’t stop smiling after the game ends. 

“Somebody’s happy to be back, eh?” Anthony teases, wrapping an arm around Kris’s shoulders as they head back into the clubhouse. 

“We won the game, and I felt perfectly fine the entire time,” Kris says. “What more could I ask for?”

“You have low standards,” Anthony says, a note of sadness in his voice.

“What can I say, I’m a simple man,” Kris says, determined to hold onto his happiness. “And I don’t think you should really be saying I have low standards, considering that I’m dating you.”

“Hey!” Anthony protests, poking Kris in the ribs.

“Hey, you brought it on yourself,” Kris says, laughing and leaning into Anthony as they walk.

 

In his second game back, Kris stares down Wainwright, waiting for his pitch to hit. Wainwright nods slightly as he gets the call he likes, and-

-Kris is back in Vegas as a teenager, facing down Bryce Harper. He hates it when Bryce pitches, because he throws harder than anyone else at this level. Bryce’s eyes look almost black in the light, giving Kris an eerie feeling. He shifts his gaze from Bryce’s eyes to the ball gripped in his hand. He sees it well out of his hand, gets a good swing, and hears the beautiful crack of the ball on the bat as-

-the ball goes soaring into the Wrigley bleachers, causing a thunderous roar from the crowd as Kris’s homer breaks the tie. Kris grins as he rounds the bases-

-glancing at Bryce on the mound as he does. Bryce looks furious, eyes still appearing strangely black. Kris feels a shiver go down his spine as-

-the now-familiar wave of pain starts to hit him. He bites his lip, bracing for the agony, but it just - stops. There’s another flicker, as if the pain is trying again, but it completely disappears after that. Instead, a wave of warmth and relief washes over him. He hugs Anthony as he heads back to the dugout, making Anthony laugh.

“Welcome back, buddy!” Anthony calls after him as he trots down the dugout steps. 

 

They sweep the homestand, in no small part thanks to Kris’s contributions. Over the seven games, he hits four homers, three doubles, and five singles, with three walks. Every time he gets on base or makes a great defensive play, he feels that same flicker of the pain trying to attack him, but along with that comes the wave of warmth defending him. 

PJ checks in with Kris every day, and seems very happy at the lack of problems. Kris finally starts to relax, and the team stops hovering over him and looking worried whenever he gets on base. 

 

The team drives up to Milwaukee, excited at the prospect of beating the Brewers and increasing their division lead. They’re slightly less happy when a mold infestation in the stadium means their game has to be pushed back a day, leaving them with a Saturday doubleheader instead, but Kris is just happy to be playing with the team at all. He spends Friday at the gym the whole team heads to, working out and laughing with his teammates. They go out for dinner at a fantastic Italian place, and Anthony spends the entire meal speaking in Italian and pretending he doesn’t know English, leading to a hilarious time.

Kris goes to bed with Anthony, curling up with him and talking until they both fall asleep. His dreams are strange, full of dark thoughts and a strange man with black eyes. He dreams of lightning cracking down on the baseball field, frying him as he tries to play. 

Kris wakes up screaming, agony radiating from every part of his head. Anthony is there, holding Kris and trying to talk to him, but all Kris can focus on is the pain. There are more people, trying to touch him and make him move and Kris can’t stop screaming because his head hurts so badly. 

Something eventually penetrates through the haze of agony, a strange feeling of dissociation from the pain as everything starts to fade away. The pain recedes, but so does the feeling of Anthony’s hands and the sound of everyone’s voice.

 

PJ drives back to Chicago with Kris once he wakes up, head feeling perfectly fine yet again. The same specialists do the same tests as before, yielding the same results, and PJ sends Kris home with instructions to rest. Kris skulks around his apartment, spending most of his time watching baseball games on television and going over the videos he manages to get the guys at Wrigley to send him.

Anthony texts Kris constantly, checking in on him whenever he’s not playing. Kris’s parents and brother offer to fly in and stay in, but Kris tells them that he feels fine.

And he does, which is the most frustrating part. His head doesn’t bother him in the slightest, and the only things that trouble him are that he’s not playing with his team and his dreams.

The same tortured dreams that had haunted Kris’s sleep that night in Milwaukee now disturb him every night. He dreams of tragedy, of terrible things befalling his friends and family because of the actions of the man with black eyes. That man is the only constant in his dreams, causing all sorts of disturbances.

 

Kris is standing in the batter’s box at Wrigley, facing down a shadowed pitcher, whose only visible feature is his gleaming black eyes. The baseball flies out of his hand, but the white sphere has been replaced by one of inky blackness. Kris tries to jump back, out of the way of the ball, but it nails him right in the helmet, and he collapses onto the plate, pain erupting from his head.

There’s a gentle touch on his face, and the pain suddenly clears away. Kris blinks up at the man standing above him, recognizing after a moment that it’s Ernie Banks.

“Am I dead?” He asks, taking Ernie’s proffered hand and getting to his feet.

“No, this is just a dream,” Ernie says, his voice grave and his ever-present smile nowhere to be seen. “But if things carry on as they do, that might be how this ends.”

“What?” Kris asks. “These headaches, they mean that I’m going to die? What’s wrong with me?”

“Let’s walk,” Ernie says instead, starting a circuit along the warning track. “It’s amazing, isn’t it, how much things change, but this old ballpark stays the same.”

“Why am I going to die?” Kris asks, not in the mood to discuss Wrigley Field. 

Ernie sighs, looking troubled. “I’m afraid I cannot tell you. I can help protect you by combining my magic with Wrigley’s, but my power doesn’t extend outside of the Friendly Confines anymore. You have to be the one to remember.”

“Remember?” Kris asks, reaching out to brush his fingers over the ivy next to him. “Remember what? I don’t know why this is happening. And magic? What?”

“You spoke with Miguel Cabrera, did you not?” Ernie asks.

“Yeah, why?” Kris asks. “And how do you know that?”

“Cabrera is one of the strongest magic wielders in baseball,” Ernie explains. “He probably sensed what is going on with you. And as for how I know that, it is a long story. The simplified version is that my magic caused me to tether a part of my soul to this team, so even though I have moved on, a part of me remains, watching over you.”

“Cabrera sensed what’s going on with me? Why didn’t he tell me what it was? And what is it?” Kris asks, getting increasingly frustrated.

“Cabrera likely sensed something, but I doubt that even he could penetrate through the upper layers of magic to truly understand what is happening. That, I’m afraid, is up to you.”

“But I don’t have magic!” Kris protests. “I don’t understand any of this. I just want to play baseball.”

“You can,” Ernie says, “As long as you remember.”

“Remember what?” Kris asks desperately. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be remembering!”

“You’re so close,” Ernie reaches out to grab Kris’s shoulder, turning him so they’re face-to-face. “You just need to remember.” He puts a hand on Kris’s cheek, and Kris is back in his house in Vegas, a junior in high school.

“You played a good game today,” Kris says to Bryce, not sure why he’s saying it even as the words come out of his mouth. He feels like a spectator in his own body, stuck watching but having no control. 

“Better than yours,” Bryce laughs, an edge to it. “I’ll always be better than you.”

“We’ll see,” Kris grins, apparently under the impression that Bryce is just teasing. 

“No,” Bryce says, and something in his expression shifts, turns dark. Kris looks up at him, and Bryce’s eyes are suddenly pitch black, something dark roiling beneath them. “I’m always going to be better than you. I’m going to get drafted higher than you, I’m going to make it to the Majors before you, I’m going to win Rookie of the Year and MVP before you. And I’m going to win the World Series long before you do.”

“Bryce, what?” Young Kris finally figures out that something bad is happening. “What’s going on, man?”

“I won’t let you be better than me,” Bryce growls. “Everything you do, I’ll be there, bringing you down. I’ll always be better. I’ll curse you and your entire team if I have to, I have the power for that.”

“Bryce-“ Young Kris tries to get up, frightened, but Bryce’s eyes narrow, and he freezes in place. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m a fucking demon, Bryant,” Harper snarls. “And I will not let you be better than me. My curse will make sure that I win everything before you, and once I’ve won everything, it’ll make sure you never outplay me. I’m going to be the best player in baseball.”

“Bryce, don’t-“ Kris tries, but Bryce cuts him off with a flick of his hand.

“Of course, I can’t have you remembering this, can I?” Bryce asks, a cold smirk coming over his face. “You’ll have to forget this, because I can’t just kill you yet.” He waves his hand again, black smoke billowing out from his fingers, and Kris tries to run, but he’s frozen in place, and-

-he wakes up in his apartment in Chicago, sitting bolt upright. He’s shaking and covered in sweat, but he finally knows what’s going on. It’s been Bryce all along.

 

“PJ, I have to travel with the team to Washington,” Kris says into his phone. “Please, I have to go.”

“Kris, I’m sorry, I just don’t think that’s a good idea,” PJ says. “You should stay home and rest, not stress your system by flying across the country.”

“I have to go,” Kris insists. “I can’t explain it, I just-I need to go to Washington.”

“Why?” PJ asks. “If there’s a specialist or someone you want to see there, I can look into it for you.”

“No, it’s not that. I’m sorry, I can’t tell you why. I just need to go,” Kris says

“Is it just that you want to spend time with your teammates again?” PJ asks. “I understand that, but-“

“It’s not that,” Kris interrupts. “I think I know what’s been going on with my head, but I need to go to DC to deal with it. I can’t tell you anything more than that, please.”

PJ sighs. “Fine, I guess I can let you fly out to DC. I can keep a better eye on you and see how things stand from there, anyways. But if you figure this out, I expect to be notified absolutely immediately.”

“Thank you,” Kris allows himself a small smile as he hangs up, hopeful that he can actually end this and get back to his normal life.

 

Kris’s optimism at ending this whole situation disappears as soon as he reaches Bryce’s apartment. He’s somehow only just realized that he has literally no idea how to possibly confront a demon and get it to stop torturing him, but before he can run away and try to formulate some sort of plan, Bryce opens the door.

“Kris?” he asks, looking genuinely surprised and delighted to see him. “Hey, I didn’t think you were traveling to DC! Come on in! How are you doing?”

“Don’t do this,” Kris says, stepping past Bryce and into the apartment. “I know what you are and what you’re doing.”

The smile drops off Bryce’s face, his eyes flickering before settling into the black that Kris remembers from his dream. “I was wondering if you would ever figure it out.”

“Why?” Kris asks. “We used to be friends. You were a good guy. Or was that all a lie?”

“I possessed Bryce when he was fifteen,” the demon wearing Bryce’s body says. “So yeah, you knew him for a little while, but it’s been all me since then. I can barely hear his voice screaming at me to let him go anymore, but it did get louder for a time when I started cursing you this season.”

“I thought you cursed me when we were teenagers,” Kris says. “Why did it change this year?”

“I didn’t figure on you going to Chicago when I cursed you the first time,” Bryce scowls. “Chicago has a lot of magic, so it eventually overpowered my curse. From the moment you set foot in Wrigley, it was fighting against me. It even managed to protect you part of this season, when I was focusing a lot more energy on cursing you. But my original curse broke after last season, so I had to step it up recently.”

“The World Series,” Kris says, realizing. “Everything else you said-you got drafted higher, made the Majors first, won Rookie and MVP, but I won the World Series first.”

“Exactly,” Bryce looks furious. “Chicago’s magic suppressed my curse and allowed you all to win the Series, which shattered the curse. So when I went to Wrigley this season, I figured that I could just curse you directly every time you did something especially good.”

“But why me?” Kris asks. “Why not Trout, or Kershaw, or Posey?”

“Because I don’t get compared to those guys, and I get compared to you,” Bryce says. “Really, I don’t know why you care. This is going to end with me wiping your memory and you going back to Chicago just as cursed as before.”

“Bryce-“ Kris tries, but black smoke comes out of Bryce’s fingertips and he chokes, suddenly unable to speak. 

“Unfortunately, I have a game tonight, so you’re going to have to wait for that. It’s a good thing nobody expects you to be playing.” Bryce’s black smoke billows up again. Kris tries to run, but he makes it two steps towards the window before the world goes dark around him.

 

Anthony swears as his phone call to Kris goes unanswered yet again.

“What’s up?” Lester asks, walking over to Anthony’s locker.

“Kris isn’t answering his phone, but he texted and said he landed two hours ago,” Anthony explains. 

“Have you tried looking at where his phone is?” Lester suggests. 

“That’s a good idea,” Anthony says, pulling his phone back out and looking for Kris’s contact. “Oh, that’s gotta be Bryce’s apartment. Why would Kris go there?”

“I don’t know, but you should go get your boy,” Lester says, clapping Anthony on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ll be back in awhile,” Anthony says, calling for an Uber to pick him up outside the stadium.

 

Anthony knocks on Bryce’s door, hoping that he and Kris aren’t in the middle of some deep conversation.

“Hey, Rizzo,” Bryce says, opening the door after a minute of knocking. “What brings you here?”

“Looking for Kris,” Anthony says, holding up his phone. “It says he’s here.”

“Sorry, you just missed him,” Bryce says. “He left like five minutes ago.”

“Yeah?” Anthony asks, arching an eyebrow. “Then why do I see Kris’s bag on the floor just inside?”

“Ah, shit,” Harper mutters as Anthony moves past him into the apartment. Harper makes no move to stop him as he walks inside, stopping dead when he sees Kris lying on the ground.

“What the fuck?” Anthony whirls around to glare at Harper as he drops to his knees next to Kris. “Did he have one of his migraines? Why didn’t you call one of us?”

“He didn’t have one of his migraines,” Bryce says, reclining casually against the door. “I knocked him out because I didn’t feel like dealing with him right now.”

“You knocked him out? Why?” Anthony runs his fingers through Kris’s hair, looking for blood or other indications of head trauma. “You might’ve given him a concussion! And what do you mean, dealing with him?”

“I didn’t hit him over the head, I just used this,” Bryce says, wiggling his fingers and causing black smoke to wisp out from them.

“You have magic?” Anthony asks, standing and shifting to put Kris behind him, sharpening his thoughts the way he’d been taught and thinking hard in Javy’s direction. “That still doesn’t answer any of my questions.”

“You don’t seem rather surprised by this,” Bryce remarks. “But you’re not magical.”

“Couple teammates,” Anthony shrugs. “Again, you haven’t answered my questions.”

Bryce laughs. “Your teammates are demons?” 

“Demons? No, they’re magic users,” Anthony says. “You’re a demon?”

Bryce’s eyes flicker, rolling up and revealing solid black eyes. “Guilty.”

“What does that have to do with Kris?” Anthony demands.

“He found out that I’ve been cursing him since we were teenagers, and for some reason thought it was a good idea to confront me,” Bryce’s smirk has always infuriated Anthony, but he hates it even more now that Kris is lying unconscious in front of him. 

“Why have you been cursing him? And was that why he was having those migraines?” 

“I’ve been cursing him because of an old feud with him,” Bryce says, looking completely unconcerned. “And yes, I was assaulting his mind with my magic, which manifested as migraines. Now the question is, what do I do with you?”

“Let me take Kris out of here and stop cursing him,” Anthony says with a confidence he doesn’t feel. He’s used to facing down difficult challenges and long odds, but a demon is a whole different ballgame.

“Hmm, no,” Bryce says. “I can’t just leave you here, you’d be missed at the game tonight. So that means either I need to stage a tragic accident for you, or wipe your memory now, both of which would take too much of my energy.”

“So how about you just let us go?” Anthony suggests. 

“Nope, I already said that that wasn’t going to happen. Any other suggestions?” Bryce asks, tapping his chin thoughtfully. 

“Go back to hell and leave us alone?” Anthony scowls, trying to send his thought-message to Javy again. He’s never been more upset about being a magical blank than he is right now, because he won’t even know if Javy is receiving this.

“No, I’m not going to do that either,” Bryce says, starting to stalk over to where Anthony is standing in front of Kris. Anthony raises his fists, knowing that it’ll be utterly useless against demonic magic, but before Bryce can do anything, Javy pops up next to Anthony. Javy stumbles slightly, nearly stepping on Kris’s limp body, but Anthony catches his arm and keeps him upright.

“What-oh,” Javy says, blinking in surprise at Bryce. He raises his hands, a wave of blue sparks slamming into Bryce’s chest and knocking him to the ground. Bryce lifts his hands, the black smoke starting to come out again, but another wave of Javy’s magic coats his hand, trapping the black smoke beneath a pair of shimmering blue gloves.

“How-“ Bryce’s face contorts into a snarl. “Where the fuck do you get your power from?”

“Not from hell,” Javy snaps back, raising his hands and sending a single bolt right at Bryce’s head. Bryce gasps, head slamming back against the floor. “Why are you here?”

“Some-“ Bryce chokes on his words, features strained. “Someone summoned me into this world near Harper’s house, so I possessed the kid. We don’t play much baseball in hell, it’s been fun.”

“Anything you want to ask him, Rizz?” Javy asks. “He has to tell the truth right now.”

“What’s the real reason you’ve been going after Kris?” Anthony steps closer, staring down into Bryce’s black eyes. 

“He’s-“ Bryce chokes again, turning his head and spitting onto the floor next to him. “He’s better than me, so I cursed him to not win anything before me, and then when that broke because of the playoffs last year, I started causing his migraines.”

“There was a whole season between him winning the World Series and when he started getting the migraines,” Anthony says. “Why wait so long?”

“Chicago and Wrigley have really strong magic, and winning the World Series massively amped that up,” Bryce says. “I couldn’t touch him for the entire 2017 season, not even at Nationals Park in the playoffs. It took me until I went to Wrigley this season to be able to curse him again.”

“If we get rid of you, will the curse go away, or will he still get the migraines?” Anthony asks. “And will he wake up?”

“They’re individual curses, not just one,” Bryce says, spitting out the words as if they’re burning him. “So if I’m not actively cursing him, he won’t have any other issues. But no, you’ll need someone who can do countercurses to wake him up.”

“And how do we exorcise you?” Javy asks, stepping forward.

“No formal exorcism works on me,” Bryce laughs, a harsh smirk twisting his features. “You’d have to have enough raw energy power to send me straight back to hell.”

“It’s a good thing I do,” Javy laughs back at Bryce. “Rizzo, any other questions?”

“What about the real Bryce Harper?” Anthony asks. “Once we get rid of you, will he come back, or is he dead?”

“He’s still in here,” Not-actually-Bryce says. “He’s been far more active recently, he’ll probably come back quickly, but I don’t know what that’s like, given that I am, by definition, no longer there for that part.”

“I don’t have any other questions,” Rizzo says to Javy. “You can get rid of it now.”

“Great,” Javy says, clenching his hands together. A giant ball of his blue magic gathers between them, then he hurls it at Bryce, sending it straight into his chest. Bryce howls, black smoke pouring out of his mouth as Javy twists his hands, making the ball of magic in the demon’s chest whirl. Finally, a last swirl of smoke goes flying out, then the whole mass goes shooting down into the ground. Bryce’s body slumps down, eyes flickering back to normal before slipping shut. Next to Anthony, Javy sends one final blast of magic at Bryce’s body, then collapses.

“Whoa!” Anthony shouts, reaching out and managing to catch Javy just before he hits the floor, lowering him gently to the ground. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Too much magic,” Javy says, leaning against the couch behind him. He’s trembling slightly, his features pale and sweaty. “You need to call Kyle and tell him to get here right away.”

“Schwarbs or Hendricks?” Anthony asks, drawing a weak laugh from Javy.

“Hendricks,” he says with a slight smile. “Schwarbs is a complete magical blank.”

“Okay,” Anthony says, sitting on the ground next to Javy and Kris. Hendricks picks up on the first ring, sounding concerned.

“What’s up, Rizzo?” he asks. “Did you find Kris?”

“Yeah, we’re at Bryce Harper’s apartment with Javy, who says you need to get here right now,” Anthony tells him. 

“Okay, it’ll take some time for me to get a ride there-“ Kyle starts.

“It’s an emergency,” Javy says loudly. “Rizzo’s fine, use your magic.”

“Oh, okay,” Kyle says, then there’s a crackling sound next to Anthony and Kyle appears next to him. Anthony stares at him for a second, then hangs up the phone.

“Um, hi,” he says, smiling weakly at Kyle. “Good to see you?”

“What happened?” Kyle asks, taking in Kris and Bryce both unconscious on the floor and Javy slumped against the couch. “Did you overload yourself again?” He kneels next to Javy, putting a hand on Javy’s chest. His hand pulses blue for a moment, then Javy’s color returns a little, and his shaking stops. 

“Harper was possessed,” Javy says, sounding more like himself. “He’s been cursing Kris since they were teenagers, but they were immediate curses this season. I sent the demon back down, but he was a little more powerful than I anticipated.”

“And Kris?” Kyle asks, moving so he’s next to Kris and putting his hands on Kris’s head. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Anthony asks anxiously. “Harper - the demon, I guess - it said that it knocked Kris out and that someone who could do countercurses could wake him up.”

“Yeah, I can,” Kyle says. “It’s just a pretty strong curse, and there’s still a lot of residual magic in him from whatever Harper’s been doing.”

“The demon said that if he wasn’t actively cursing Kris anymore, he’d be fine,” Anthony says. “Did he lie? Is Kris going to be okay?”

“He couldn’t lie,” Javy says. “I used the compulsion spell you taught me.”

“Really? I’m glad you’ve been working on that stuff,” Kyle says. “And no, Rizz, he didn’t lie. If not for him knocking Kris out, the other curse magic would dissipate on its own after a little while, but I can still handle it. What about Harper?”

“I’ll check on him,” Javy volunteers, getting up to go over to Harper.

“Don’t you dare do more than a basic scan,” Kyle warns him. “I didn’t give you enough for more than that, you need time to let your magic recover.”

“Okay,” Javy says, letting a few sparks fly over Harper’s body. “Looks like he just passed out because of the possession, he should wake up before too long.”

“Let’s get him up on the couch,” Anthony suggests, feeling bad for Harper. He and Javy carry the man’s limp body across the room, settling him down onto the cushions. 

“So, what happened with this whole thing?” Kyle asks.

“I don’t know what happened between Harper and Kris just now, but Harper’s been cursing Kris since they were teenagers. He cursed him to not be as good at baseball and to not win things before Harper did. Our World Series win broke that, so he started cursing him with those migraines this season,” Anthony explains to his teammates.

“Jeez,” Kyle says, shaking his head as he puts a hand over Kris’s heart.

“Can I help with Kris?” Javy asks, settling back down onto the floor next to Kyle and Kris. 

“No, this is complicated spellwork and it’ll take a lot of magic,” Kyle says. 

“What do you need from us?” Anthony asks. 

“Just hang tight for a minute, you may have to help me later,” Kyle says, his hands starting to glow again. Anthony sits down next to Javy, pulling out his phone to text Lester, who’s sent him several messages.

_Hey, you find Kris?_  
_Everything alright with him?_  
_You’ve been gone for awhile, you okay?_  
_I have a bad feeling about something Rizz, what’s going on?_  
_Answer your fucking phone or I’m coming after you, and if this disrupts my pre start routine I’m going to be pissed._

__

__

_Sorry, things got kinda crazy but it’s all good. Kris and I are here with Javy and Kyle H. I’ll explain it all to you tomorrow_

_Glad to hear it. Don’t go MIA like that again._

_Sorry._

 

“So, why did you have to call Kyle in to do countercurse stuff? Why couldn’t you use your magic for that?” Anthony asks Javy.

“Well, I depleted my magic in getting rid of Harper,” Javy explains. “I would not have been able to do anything after that. But there are different kinds of magic. There’s demon magic, my magic, and the type of magic Kyle has. I have magic that is pretty much just energy. I can’t do future spells or things that last a long time, it’s just immediate magic.”

“His magic is kind of just brute force,” Kyle puts in. “So he can do things like take down demons and send them back to hell, but he couldn’t curse someone like the demon did Kris initially. He could do curses like the ones the demon’s been using this season, though.”

“Okay,” Anthony says after a moment. “And what about you?”

“My magic is more of a learned type,” Kyle explains, still working over Kris. “I have the innate ability, but I have to channel it through spells. I can’t just send a blast of magic at somebody the way Javy can.”

“How do you know so much about Javy’s magic?” Anthony asks.

“I’ve been teaching him some stuff,” Kyle says. “People with pure energy magic can learn how to do spells, but it’s harder for them to learn than it is for someone with my kind of magic.”

“The spell I used to make Bryce - the demon, actually, tell the truth was something Kyle taught me,” Javy says. 

“I have pretty strong magic, so I sensed something was wrong magically with Kris when his migraines started, but demons have strong blockers that keep their curses from being easily detected,” Kyle tells Anthony. “Javy and I have been trying to figure out what it was since then, but we’ve been coming up empty. Cabrera also realized there was something going on when we were in Detroit, so he gave me some pointers on spells of protection to try to help Kris.”

“Is that why he was fine for awhile after he got off the DL?” Anthony asks. 

“A little of that was me, some of that was Wrigley,” Kyle says. “Wrigley and Fenway have the strongest magic of any ballparks in the country, and Wrigley has a lot of protective magic warded into it. Players with magic ward spells into their stadiums as long as they play there, so those two parks have the most of any. I’ve been working on Wrigley myself since I first got called up, so I’m pretty in tune with the wards. I can feel when they’re absorbing more hostile magic than usual, which there was a lot of when Kris was back from the DL. I tried to help as much as I could when we weren’t at Wrigley, but I had no warning before he would curse Kris, so it wasn’t very effective. That night in Milwaukee, when the demon went after Kris while he slept, I was the one who made him fall asleep so he wouldn’t be in pain anymore. I wish I could’ve done more, but it’s really hard to counteract immediate, short-lived curses.”

“Well, thank you for doing as much as you did,” Anthony says. “I’m sure Kris will appreciate every bit, even if it didn’t overpower the demon’s curses.”

“Speaking of, stay back for a minute,” Kyle warns them, his hands glowing brighter against Kris’s head. He moves them so one is cradling the back of Kris’s head while he gently lays the other on Kris’s cheek. 

Kris suddenly jerks upright, eyes wide and chest heaving as he scrambles to get away from Hendricks. He looks wild, like he’s about to bolt halfway across the room.

“Hey, Kris, take it easy,” Kyle says firmly. “You’re safe now, the demon is gone. It’s just us here.”

“What-“ Kris’s eyes flicker around, not seeming to see any of them. When Kyle tries to put a hand on his shoulder, Kris crumples forward, clutching at his head. Anthony moves forward, wanting to go and help Kris, but Javy puts a hand on his arm to keep him in place. Kyle pries Kris’s hands off of his head, replacing them with his glowing ones, blue magic seeping out of his hands and into Kris. 

“Is that better?” Kyle asks after a moment, pulling his hands away. 

“Yeah, I - wow,” Kris says, sitting back up and looking at Kyle. “I feel better than I have in months.”

“That would be because I finally got rid of all of the residual demon magic hanging out in your system,” Kyle explains. “Even when you weren’t getting the migraines, there was still some magic lingering, probably keeping you from feeling totally yourself.”

“Wait, how are you all here?” Kris asks, suddenly seeming to register Anthony and Javy’s presences. “And what happened to Bryce? Did you kill him? What’s going on?”

“I got rid of the demon possessing him,” Javy says. ”Bryce will be fine, he’s right there.”

“Wait, wait,” Kris says. “I’m missing a lot.”

“Short version: I looked at your phone to see where you were, then came to Bryce’s apartment and saw you lying unconscious on the ground,” Anthony says. “He went after me, but I contacted Javy and he took down the demon, then sent him back to hell. We called Kyle in to help you, and here we are. I can give you the long version later.”

“How’d you contact Javy to get here in time? And wait, didn’t the demon do some magic to knock me out? How would Kyle help with that?” Kris asks.

“Javy and I both have magic,” Kyle says, letting his hands glow slightly. 

“Anthony contacted me using a mental message,” Javy tells Kris. “I teleported myself here in time to bail him out.”

“Kris, why did you come here? Did you realize Harper was behind what was going on with you?” Anthony asks, moving across the room to pull Kris against him.

“Yeah, I remembered him cursing me when we were kids, so I convinced PJ to let me fly out to DC so I could deal with it,” Kris says, leaning back into Anthony’s chest. 

“Deal with it?” Anthony repeats back. “You thought it would be a good idea to confront him on your own?”

“I don’t know,” Kris admits. “I guess I didn’t really think it through.”

“I’d say,” Anthony says, holding Kris more tightly.

“What about Bryce?” Kris asks, twisting around to look at Bryce lying on the couch. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine in a little while, he just needs some time to recover from a demon possessing him for over a decade,” Kyle says. “Actually, I’m going to call one of his teammates to come here and stay with him, you three should head back to the stadium.”

“What are you going to say to his teammate?” Anthony asks. “Should they know about him being possessed? Will they be able to help him?”

“Yeah, I’m going to contact Scherzer, he’s a magic user himself. He should be able to help Bryce recover from this,” Kyle says.

“Do you just randomly know other magic users on other teams?” Kris asks.

“Yeah, we generally keep in contact with each other so we can monitor magical happenings in the league,” Kyle says. “There are usually only a few guys per team, but they’re pretty much who you’d expect. Posey and Bumgarner, Miguel Cabrera, Jose Bautista, Albert Pujols, Yadi Molina, Adrian Beltre, Salvador Perez, Andrew McCutchen, guys like that. David Ortiz, too. He was really powerful magically. I’ll have to reach out to all these guys and let them know that we should add some protective magic against demons into the wards, just in case. Honestly, it’s a little weird that there isn’t already something in place for that.”

“I knew that Javy had magic, but I had no idea this was a whole thing,” Anthony says, shaking his head.

“I can explain it all in more detail later, but you three need to go to Nationals Park. Joe’s not going to be happy if two of his starters show up late,” Kyle says pointedly.

“Wait, wards?” Kris looks confused. “What does that mean?”

“Kyle was explaining stuff while you were out, I can fill you in later,” Anthony says quietly to him.

“Okay, I’ll get us back to the field,” Javy says, starting to build up a ball of his magic.

“No!” Kyle snaps, smacking Javy’s hands. “You’ll kill yourself if you attempt that much magic now. Take an Uber.”

“Okay,” Javy agrees, letting his magic spark out. Anthony pulls out his phone to call for a ride, keeping his other arm around Kris. 

“Are you sure you should stay here by yourself?” Kris asks. “What if the demon comes back or has friends?”

“Javy sent it to hell, it should be fine,” Kyle says. “And I can take care of myself, I’ve got pretty powerful magic. Speaking of, we should start training your magic once you’ve had some time to recover from the effects of the demon magic.”

“My magic?” Kris asks. “I don’t have magic.”

“Actually, you do,” Kyle smiles slightly. “I would imagine it’s been suppressed all these years, trying to fight back against Harper’s curse.”

“Seriously?” Kris asks. “Then why did it still affect me?”

“Untrained magic won’t be able to fully counteract a strong demon curse, but it’s probably why you still managed to be successful in baseball despite it,” Kyle explains. “We can go into all this in more detail later, but you should get PJ to check you over. Anthony, you go with him, the two of you need to explain the entire situation to him.”

“Including the parts about you and Javy?” Anthony asks.

“Yeah, PJ knows about magic. Most trainers have the ability to sense it.”

“Can they do like, healing magic, or something?” Kris asks.

Kyle smiles indulgently. “Healing magic isn’t really a thing. It takes so much magical energy that it can literally kill the person trying to do the healing.”

“Wait, seriously?” Anthony’s eyes widen.

“Yeah. Generally people can help speed up healing, but not heal whatever it is themselves. For example, if I’d tried to heal Schwarbs’ knee injury last season, it probably would have ended with me dead and him only partially healed. I helped a little bit on that, just trying to make sure it healed well, but I can’t do very much,” Kyle explains.

“So were you why he was able to make it back for the World Series?” Kris asks. 

“I was probably some of it, but he worked his butt off,” Kyle says. “I also put a sort of protective spell on it for the Series so it wouldn’t get aggravated and force him to miss more time.”

“You can use protective spells to keep people from getting injured?” Kris asks. “Why don’t the magic users on each team just use those spells on every body part for all of their teammates?”

“Well, for one, spells take energy from the caster as long as they last,” Kyle says. “And it doesn’t exactly work like that, but it’s hard to explain. I can show it to you when we explore your magic a little more.”

“Why don’t players just use their magic to improve their performance on the field?” Anthony wants to know.

“Those wards I talked about in the stadiums? They specifically prevent that. Even minor league parks usually have those spelled into them, and players who want to make the majors know that they won’t be able to rely on their magic once they get there,” Kyle says.

“That makes sense, I guess,” Anthony says. “Oh, Uber’s here. You’re sure you’re fine here without us?”

“Given that we’re dealing with magic and you’re a blank, Kris has completely untrained magic that he didn’t even know about, and Javy is utterly magically depleted, I don’t think any of you would make much of a difference even if something went wrong,” Kyle says dryly. “But thank you.”

“See you later, then,” Kris says. “And thanks for the…magical whatever back there.”

“Cursebreaking,” Kyle says, giving Kris a smile. “And of course, but try not to make a habit of it.”

“Yeah, I’m fine if this is the last time I ever deal with a curse,” Kris says, smiling back.

 

As expected, Kris gets off the DL after the minimum stay this time. The official explanation is that he had an illness that hadn’t recovered from as initially expected, but that he’s fully healthy now. The fans aren’t fully satisfied by that explanation, as it doesn’t really cover why Kris had collapsed on the field in agony a few times, but Kris doesn’t really care what they think. He can play baseball again without worrying about his brain erupting into pain, which is enough for him.

“You know, if what we’ve been seeing for the past three and a half seasons is what you can do with your baseball skills suppressed by a demon curse, I have high expectations for what you’ll do the rest of this year,” Anthony says to him as they make their way down the tunnel.

“Three homers every game to make up for all the time I missed on the DL?” Kris grins, just happy to be back with his team. 

“That sounds pretty good to me,” Hendricks says, giving Kris’s shoulder a quick squeeze as he walks past them to talk to Willson.

“Nah, you gotta make your own run support, he’ll only hit homers on days you don’t start!” Anthony hollers after him, wrapping an arm around Kris’s shoulder. “You glad to be back?”

“You have no idea,” Kris says, stepping out onto the field and smiling even wider at the cheers that greet him. He looks out across the ancient ballpark, deepening his consciousness in the way Kyle has been teaching him so he can feel the magic thrumming through it, wrapping protectively around each of them. The movement of a flag catches his eye, and his gaze travels over to see the Banks flag, flying proudly above his domain. Kris smiles, touching the brim of his cap. Thank you, Ernie, he thinks, broadcasting his thoughts magically. He’s not sure that he can reach ghostly residual magic in his waking moments, but Wrigley’s magic wells up for a moment, feeling like a warm touch on his cheek.

 

 

 

Epilogue:

“Like this?” Kris asks Kyle, casting what he thinks is a protective spell on the lamp they’ve been practicing with. 

“Let’s see,” Kyle says, picking up a baseball bat and taking a whack at the lamp. The baseball bat hits the lamp, but it just shakes slightly. “Hey, good job!”

“Finally,” Kris says with a smile. It’s been slow going to train his magic, because Kyle keeps finding wisps of demon magic tucked away in him, but they’ve finally started to make some progress. He high fives Kyle, letting the spell dissipate.

“Let’s try a sensing spell, then call it a day,” Kyle suggests. Kris’s phone rings, eliciting a laugh from Kyle. “Well, that’s convenient. Tell me who’s calling.”

Kris focuses his magic on his phone, letting his magic sweep over it. “It’s Bryce,” he tells Kyle, the smile dropping off his face.

Kyle’s face goes emotionless, his eyes glowing slightly blue as he does his own magical sweep. “Do you want to talk to him? I can tell him you don’t,” he offers.

“No, it’s fine,” Kris assures him, scooping up his phone as Kyle teleports away with a pop to give them privacy. “Hey, Bryce. What’s up?”

“I know you probably don’t want to talk to me,” Bryce says, his voice quiet and hesitant in a way that Kris never recalls Bryce being, even when they were young. “I wanted to apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Kris says, sitting down on his couch. “None of that was you.”

“I cursed you,” Bryce says, the self-recrimination obvious in his voice. “I cursed you to be a worse baseball player and to not win anything, and when that didn’t work, I cursed you with the express intent to cause you as much pain as possible to punish you for being better than me.”

“A demon cursed me,” Kris corrects him. “And yeah, I lost a couple weeks this season and maybe didn’t play up to my full potential the past few seasons, but in the grand scheme of things, that’s not a big deal to me. You were a prisoner inside your own body, forced to watch and do nothing as the demon hurt the people you loved.” 

After getting the demon out of Bryce, the Nationals had placed him on the DL to allow him some time to recover, at Max Scherzer’s suggestion. Scherzer had kept Kyle updated, who in turn had told Kris everything. The demon had forced Bryce to alienate his family and some of his older friends, apparently not caring about keeping up with what it viewed as silly human pleasantries. Kris had been one of the few exceptions, because the demon had wanted to keep tabs on him. Bryce has spent the past few weeks trying to repair those relationships as best as possible without revealing to the world that he had been possessed.

“But I was still in here with it,” Bryce says. “What if I could’ve done more to stop it?”

“Could you control anything while it was possessing you?” Kris asks.

“A little bit, sometimes,” Bryce says. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but it tended to retreat a little bit when other magic users were around. When Scherzer was on the mound, or we were up against Hendricks or Bumgarner, I had a little control over myself.”

“But other than that?” Kris prompts. 

“No, not at all,” Bryce says. “It was like a nightmare where you can’t move your body as it does things, but I couldn’t wake up from it. I tried, so hard. When it cursed you the first time, I fought it, because I still had hope that I could free myself back then. It was furious when you guys won the World Series, but I was so happy. That was one of the best moments of my life.”

“Bryce,” Kris starts, sympathy welling up in him. He can’t even imagine how awful it must’ve been for his friend all these years.

“Everything that happened this season, I was constantly fighting it. Have you ever fought a battle with something that lives in your own mind, Kris? It felt like I was trying to tear my mind apart. It hurt, so much, but I couldn’t sit there and watch as it nearly killed you.”

“It didn’t nearly kill me,” Kris says gently. “And even if it had, it wouldn’t have been your fault at all.”

“Max told me that if you didn’t have your own magic protecting you, it would have killed you,” Bryce says harshly. “If you’d died because I wasn’t strong enough to keep it from doing that, I would’ve blown my brains out.”

“Bryce!” Kris says, shocked. “None of this was your fault, do you hear me? I’m not dead, I’m perfectly fine. Everything that happened because of it - because of the fucking demon, Bryce, not because of you - was temporary or can be reversed. You’re already on good terms with your family again, and you haven’t lost your real friends. I still want to be friends with you, Bryce, and that’s because you didn’t do anything to hurt me. If you don’t want to be friends anymore because I remind you of everything that happened, I understand, but know that I don’t hold you accountable for any of it.”

“You’ve always been too good of a person for me, Kris,” Bryce laughs hollowly. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I was a kid, then I spent the rest of my life being a vessel for a demon. I struggle to make decisions and to interact with people now. The only thing I’m good at anymore is playing baseball.”

“Bryce, you need to give yourself time to deal with this,” Kris says. “You were possessed for years, and it’s only been a few weeks. Things aren’t going to magically be perfect right away.”

“I know, I just-“ Bryce’s voice breaks, and Kris feels his magic well up in response to the ache in his heart for Bryce. “I - did you just do something? I just felt something, like, I don’t know, a wave of comfort that felt like you.”

“I don’t have the greatest control over my magic yet, I’m sorry,” Kris apologizes. “Kyle’s trying to teach me, but it’s been tough.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Bryce says. “It felt nice. But anyways, it feels like I should be fine now. The demon’s gone, the nightmare’s over, but I’m still not alright. I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t know, Bryce,” Kris says. “I wish I could just wave my hands and do some magic and make all of this right again, but I can’t. Just live each day as it comes and try to enjoy it. You’ll find yourself again in time. Have you considered talking to a therapist?”

“No, but maybe that’s a good idea,” Bryce says. “I feel better talking about it with you, so maybe it will help.”

“Well, if you ever want to talk, I’m always here,” Kris says. “But it might help more to talk to a professional.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll try that,” Bryce says. “Thanks. And, Kris?”

“Yeah?”

“I still do want to be friends with you. You remind me of what it was like before, and the good moments even when I was possessed,” Bryce says. “The demon hated you so much, so it feels like a victory over it that we’re still friends.”

“Good,” Kris says. “I’m glad, Bryce. And remember, if you need anything at all, I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through things alone anymore.”

“Thanks, Kris,” Bryce says, sounding a little choked up. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, of course,” Kris says. “Keep me updated on how things are going, I know you’ll figure it out.”

“I will,” Bryce promises, ending the call. Kris lowers his phone, looking down at the picture of Bryce’s smiling face on his screen. He goes into his contacts to delete it, wishing it could be as easy to get rid of Bryce’s trauma. Bryce will figure himself out, with help from his family and friends, and Kris will replace that picture with a new one, one that is actually of Bryce being happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos make my day, so if you liked it, please let me know!
> 
> Also, this may turn into an MLB-wide series. I'm not sure yet, but I have some ideas floating around.


End file.
